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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520753">Nightmares.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursed_cactus/pseuds/cursed_cactus'>cursed_cactus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Milo Murphy's Law</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Episode: s01e33 The Island of Lost Dakotas, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insomnia, Loneliness, Nightmares, Trauma, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:36:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursed_cactus/pseuds/cursed_cactus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cannibal Dakota has nightmares about what happened to Cavendish.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nightmares.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    "Prude." Dakota smirked. He was talking to Cavendish, he hoped. It looked like Cavendish, at least. But Dakota couldn't shake the horrible feeling that it wasn't, really. For a moment he forgot what he was talking about. Everything he tried to remember came up blank. Oh well. That wasn't unusual.<br/>
    What was unusual was how quiet it was. It had been a good couple of minutes since he'd heard a reply from Cavendish. He looked up. Cavendish was gone. "Cav?" Fear washed over him. Something was wrong. He felt a sense of impending danger as he turned around.<br/>
    Nothing. Just space.<br/>
    Nothing underneath him either.<br/>
    How did he not notice that before? He barely had time to react before lurching forward and falling face-first onto some hard surface. His jaw hurt. He sat up slowly. It was difficult. His bones felt like jelly. Everything in his peripheral was pitch black, and there was a body on the ground in front of him. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he recognized the body to be Cavendish.<br/>
    "CAV!" He shouted. He reached forward, only to quickly draw his hand back after seeing how mangled his partner was. His arms and legs were detached, though they were still laying close to the body. The outer layer of the chest was peeled back, revealing a set of crushed ribs and a (somehow intact) heart.<br/>
    He barely suppressed the urge to vomit. He looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. There were chunks of skin under his nails. "What the fuck-- ?" He tasted copper. He smacked his lips and gagged, as he recognized the taste of blood. "What the FUCK?!" He retched, and a torrent of blood fell out of his mouth. He didn't know how, but he knew it had come from the corpse in front of him.<br/>
    He was shaking violently, spitting up blood and, after a while, chunks of meat to boot. He couldn't breathe. He tried closing his eyes but Cavendish's dead body was burned into his eyelids. He started scream-crying, clawing at his face with bloodstained fingers. "STOP!! STOP, STOP, STOP IT, STOP IT I DIDN'T WANT-- THIS--" His voice disappeared, like the void was eating it before anyone could hear.<br/>
    He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He just sat there screaming, and wishing he couldn't taste the blood anymore, wishing he'd never seen the body in the first place-<br/>
_________________</p><p>    He opened his eyes. He was back in his cage. There was no void. There was no dead Cavendish. He ran his tongue over his teeth and was relieved by the absence of blood. Just spit. He seemed to have an excess of that. He uncurled himself from the fetal position, checking his hands just to make sure. Nothing.<br/>
    He wanted a hug, he decided. Human contact. But it was still dark. No one else would be awake. He wondered vaguely how early it was before slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes again. Nobody would want to hug him anyway.<br/>
    He tried to go back to sleep, but his heart wasn't really in it. He wanted to put off seeing himself butchering his partner for as long as he could. He didn't really need sleep, right? He didn't deserve it, anyway. He'd just have to suck it up and keep himself awake. Again.</p><p>Maybe one day he'd get a full night of sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is kinda old but I still like it so.. Here. Comments are greatly appreciated🖤 you can come talk to me on my tumblr @ cursed-cactus-things</p></blockquote></div></div>
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